


Sam Squared

by glitteryandroid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Drabble Sequence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteryandroid/pseuds/glitteryandroid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By the time his two (two, he whines to himself) gigantic little brothers have convinced him that they aren’t evil sons of bitches, Dean’s just given up all hope of retaining his sanity and accepted it. Weirder stuff has happened. Probably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sam Squared

The first thing Dean does is grab for something silver. Goddamn shapeshifters. But Sam - sorry, the thing that looks like Sam - just looks confused and shoves him away, saying, “Dude, it’s me.” So Dean turns on the _other_ thing that looks like Sam because maybe he’s got it backwards and Sam was wearing orange this morning and not blue. But _that_ Sam just grabs the knife from his hand and when he doesn’t burn he raises his eyebrows at Dean.

There’s an ensuing tussle which leaves salty holy water all over the motel floor and Dean pinned to the bed, and by the time his two ( _two_ , he whines to himself) gigantic little brothers have convinced him that they aren’t evil sons of bitches, he’s just given up all hope of retaining his sanity and accepted it. Weirder stuff has happened. Probably.

Dean rubs his wrists and looks back and forth between the two of them. “What the hell, man?”

The one on the left shrugs. “I dunno. I fell alseep and now there’s just sort of...two of me.”

“Sam times two,” says the one on the right.

“Sam Squared,” says Left Sam, and then they both snicker, and Dean whines again and holds his head between his hands.

******

“Dude, I gotta use that.”

“It’s my laptop and I’m using it.”

“It’s mine too!”

Sam swings his head up and purses his lips in defiance. The other Sam leans over the table and glares right back at him.

Dean pulls his beer closer and sits back in his chair, face twitching, and watches.

Other Sam crosses around the table and tries to grab the laptop, but First Sam yanks it away. He tries again, and First Sam dodges him with such force that he topples over in his chair. Other Sam follows and lands on top of him, still attempting to steal the computer. First Sam lets go of the laptop and uses both hands to push Other Sam, who doesn’t budge but shifts his position so he’s straddling First Sam and holding him down and still reaching for the laptop.

Dean rubs a hand over his eyes. “I think I am actually living in a gay porno,” he mutters.

******

Dean calls them Sad Sam and Sassy Sam, because for his own sanity he needs a way to differentiate between them, and he can’t just keep referring to them by the color of their shirts. He decides on Sad and Sassy because he’s pretty sure whatever did the Sam-Splitting also split his personality. One of the Sams (orange-shirt from the first day) looks concerned most of the time and sighs heavily when Dean asks if he’s gonna go pick up a set of twins at the bar. Sassy Sam (blue-shirt) wears a permanently amused bitchface and gives as good as he gets during their daily sarcastic bickering. And Dean’s gotta admit, when the Sams get bickering with each other, it’s pretty entertaining.

“Then just go get some food, man! I can’t be responsible for you all the time!” Sassy Sam says to his duplicate.

Sad Sam crosses his arms over his chest. “Not gonna be responsible to yourself? That sounds about right.”

“Jerk.”

Both Sams turn and look at Dean.

“I’m gonna go get the food,” he says, and runs out the door.

******

 _It’s not really such a bad thing having two Sams around_ , Dean thinks as he digs his fork furiously into his stack of pancakes, _I mean, besides the obvious reasons_. He looks up in time to see Sassy Sam stealing one of Sad Sam’s half-n-half packets. Sad Sam tries to take it back. Sassy Sam swats him away. Dean refuses to intervene.

Dean’s phone rings. It’s Cas and a second later he’s sitting in the booth next to Dean and he’s staring at Sam like he’s grown two heads, _which_ , Dean thinks with another bite of pancake, _he kind of did_.

“Hey, Cas,” say both Sams at once. They’ve given up their wrestling match over the half-n-half. Cas blinks.

“This is awkward,” he says, and Dean nearly chokes on his bacon. Sassy Sam rolls his eyes. To his credit, though, Cas adjusts to the new development almost immediately and starts talking about something involving Horsemen and Lucifer and Rogue Angels, and Dean is really trying hard to concentrate on what he’s saying, but his attention can only be split so many ways, and after a minute of listening to Cas and also watching the Sams bicker over who’s wearing whose shirt, he slams his hand down and tunes the dial to full-on-dad-mode.

“It’s like dealing with children,” he grouses once he’s hustled their group out of the diner and put the Sams in the backseat of the car with a “no fighting or else” warning (and if the backseat is for the kids, he tries very hard not to think of what it means that Cas is sitting up front with him).

******

Dean thinks it’s weird how quickly they fall into the same patterns. Weird, familial, creepy-as-hell patterns. Like, Sad Sam _always_ goes in before Sassy Sam, and Sassy Sam _always_ remembers the coffee, and the Sams _always_ sit next to each other and never across from each other. It doesn’t mean the general rudeness tones down. There’d been a third incident in a diner that made Dean really, really grateful, in a horrible sort of way, that Mary and John didn’t have more kids, after which Dean practically begged Cas to stick around until they fixed the Sams, because 1) he was really good at keeping his cool around them and that kept Dean grounded, and 2) it meant they couldn’t fight over shotgun. Cas _always_ gets shotgun.

******

Dean had called Bobby the day Sam got duplicated, but Bobby is still, understandably, put on edge by seeing the Sams on his porch. Dean shakes his head. “Already ran every test I know,” he says. (It doesn’t stop Bobby from lacing everybody’s beer with holy water. Just in case.)

“You two seem surprisingly…okay with this,” Bobby says to Dean after he’s sent the Sams off to the grocery store. (“Pie!” Dean demands as they head out, and Sassy Sam just grins.) Dean shrugs.

“They’ve been like this for three weeks,” he says, as if those 21 days makes having two Sams when you previously had one perfectly okay.

“But the duplication – that can’t have been good for him.”

“They’re both still fully Sam,” Cas puts in. “Whoever duplicated him was very thorough. There are only slight personality differences, which has lead Dean to believe that they are on different menstrual cycles.”

Dean turns towards Cas, and squints. He makes a snorting sound. Bobby stares at both of them.

Cas frowns at Dean. “But I personally don’t think that’s the case,” he finishes. “May I have another beer?”

******

“Hey, Sam, come help me with this.”

“Which one?”

Bobby looks up from the book he’s flipping through and stares between the Sams.

“Uh. White shirt, I guess.”

“Sad Sam,” Dean supplies helpfully from the front door.

“Sad Sam? What the - ”

“Red plaid shirt is Sassy Sam!”

“You gave them – Dean, for crying out loud – ”

“What?” Dean says, putting his hands up. “They don’t mind. Do ya, Sammy?”

Sad Sam bites his bottom lip. Sassy Sam makes a bitchy face. Dean grins.

“See?” He gestures to them with his beer can. “Sad. Sassy.”

Bobby looks like he’s about to argue with Dean for being an insensitive idjit, but Sassy Sam suddenly smirks and puts his hand up. “It’s fine, Bobby,” he says. “Cas has way more names for Dean.”

Dean swivels towards the angel in the corner, whose eyes widen slightly before disappearing with a frantic flapping sound.

******

Turns out having two Sams actually makes the hunting part of hunting easier. It’s a third man that Dean already trusts, so no issues there, and it confuses both people and monsters to see the same person twice. Plus, since the Sams have the same instincts, they know how to back up each other without saying anything. It’s actually a little creepy, but since Sam and psychic abilities don’t really bring up good memories Dean keeps his trap shut.

Dean’s also convinced that the duplication process somehow made Sam an Olympic athlete. He casually formulates an algebra equation in his mind ( _if Sad Sam leaves Sioux Falls at nine a.m. running full speed and Sassy Sam leaves Lawrence at half speed at 10 a.m. when will they meet?_ ) as he trails behind the Sams, half-heartedly pounces on a chain link fence and scrambles over the top. This action does not agree with joints and his knee makes an unpleasant cracking noise as he lands, making him stumble into - well, one of the Sam’s arms, anyway. Sam heaves him up and pulls him along down the alley. He decides he’s claiming first shower when they get back to the motel.

******

Sam makes a face. Dean makes a face back. Other Sam makes a face at both of them.

Castiel sighs. Two weeks with three Winchesters are making him antsy.

Not that he’d say anything. Dean looks too pathetic when he’s left on his own with the Sams.

Not that he’d say that, either.

Cas and Dean guessed that one of his brothers was behind the mysterious duplication – in fact, he was fairly certain it was all Gabriel’s doing – but the whole rebelling-against-heaven thing made it a little difficult to get answers. He stares blankly at the bickering brothers across the room while considering whether it would be worth it to try to find Gabriel tonight.

“Cas.” Dean’s voice is a little too loud next to him. “We’re going out.” Cas re-focuses and follows Dean out the door, which slams behind them.

“Why isn’t Sam joining us?”

“Because Sam,” Dean spits as he yanks open the driver’s door, “is pissy and getting on my nerves.”

Cas climbs carefully into the front seat. “He does seem a little beside himself.”

Dean lets out a bark of laughter. “See?” he says as he backs out of the parking lot, “Humor. You’ve totally got it.”

Cas smiles as Dean continues to chuckle to himself.

He isn’t really sure what he had said that was so funny, though.

******

The first night, they had all stayed in one motel room - Dean had convinced himself that if he made the Sams share a bed they would magically morph back into one body. In actuality, he woke up in the middle of the night on the floor between the beds, Sassy Sam sprawled like a starfish across the bed Dean had previously occupied. Obviously, the two-bed thing wasn’t going to work out.

But because Dean is a paranoid freak and didn’t want to let the Sams out of his sight, he refused to let them get two rooms, even if it meant flirting a roll-away bed out of every motel manager in the continental United States. Well. Flirting or glaring. He drew the line at flirting with guys. He has _standards_ , after all.

******

So yeah, waking up and seeing yourself across the room is definitely weird, but it isn’t unbearable, especially with the number of creatures the Winchesters have encountered wearing their faces (hint: more than most people). Dean would argue that it’s totally unbearable based on how much the Sams fight with each other, but really, what did he expect? The point is, Sam got over the weirdness of the duplication thing pretty quickly. Also, two Sams fighting with each other cannot be as weird as watching Cas and Dean sharing an order of fries, because first off, since when does Cas even eat, and second off, since when is Dean okay with sharing his food? For a long time it looks like Dean either hasn’t noticed or is ignoring him and maybe this isn’t as awkward as Sam thinks it is, but then Dean reaches the last few fries and he holds up the basket and offers them to Cas, who locks eyes with him for an uncomfortably long half a second before taking the last fry. Yeah, this is definitely as awkward as Sam thought it was. He slurps at his Coke in what he hopes is a loud and annoying enough manner, and other Sam smirks and huffs. Dean glares at them, which makes Sam shake his head because Dean’s _actually confused_ about why Sam is laughing and jeez, could this family be any more weird? He guesses not.

******

Dean curses around the flashlight in his mouth, then drops it and whisper-shouts to Sam to come and make himself useful. “Not both of you!” he hisses over his shoulder a moment later, “One of you go back and watch the road.”

“You didn’t clarify,” Sad Sam hisses back.

Dean drops the lock pick. “I’m sorry. Would you like to try picking the lock on a bunch of sleeping witches in the middle of February in Maine and then try to decide which of your identical twin brothers you want to come hold the flashlight for you? Really, Sam?” Sad Sam snorts, but gets up and creeps back to the end of the driveway. Dean rolls his eyes.

******

Sam wakes up with a snort and someone else’s arm across his back and body heat against his side. He freezes. He can’t remember bringing someone home - or going home with someone? Shit. He feels himself panicking and forces in a deep breath, and focuses on remembering what happened last night. He and Dean ganked a shapeshifter. That had sucked. Okay, but afterwards. Dean and the other Sam had gone back out and Sam had fallen asleep. Dean said he was just getting food, but - shitshitshit, was this someone Dean brought back? Or someone his other self brought back? Because that would be so awkward to explain. Slightly less weird but way more acceptable right now, Dean might have forgotten which bed was his...nope. Sam can hear Dean move in his sleep on the other bed. Goddammit. He holds his breath and then flips over, ready to kick whoever-it-was out of his bed.

Sassy Sam shifts away from the movement and pulls his arm away. “Sorry,” he mumbles, “the roll-out was lumpy.”

******

This whole Sam squared business has been fun, but Dean’s really ready to be done with it, and as he (quite literally) throws together the spell Cas promises will make Sam normal and singular again all he can think is, _God, I hope this works_. There’s a lot of smoke, and some sparks, and then it feels like the ground is jolting back and forth, and after Dean has coughed and waved the smoke out of his face he looks up and there’s Sam, one and only, and awkwardly wearing two shirts.

“Geez,” Dean mutters. “Good to see only one of you again.”

Sam smiles shyly and wiggles his back and arms, like he’s settling back into his body. Dean wonders if Sam split in half, or if he opened up like those painted dolls. Which is an odd image in his mind, but then this whole five weeks has been a series of odd images. Dean turns around to clean up and then, suddenly, pulls up short.

“Dean,” says Castiel.

“I feel odd,” says the other Castiel.

Dean swears.


End file.
